


left foot on blue

by robin_hoods



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Secret Crush, Twister - Freeform, mikado has a permanent blush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:19:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_hoods/pseuds/robin_hoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikado gritted his teeth. He was <i>not</i> going to let Masaomi win this round. Or any other round, really. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if he lost <i>again</i>. So he reached out with his right hand, to end up in what had to be the most awkward position of this afternoon yet, basically spread-eagled on a fricking Twister mat. He was never, ever going to say yes to any of Masaomi’s propositions again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left foot on blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FatalTie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalTie/gifts).



> Happy birthday!
> 
> I wanted to write something sweet and (perhaps) a bit silly, and it got a teensy tiny bit long. I still hope you'll like it! :)

“Are you giving up yet?”

Masaomi’s voice startled Mikado so much he almost flipped right over on the mat, the plastic material sticking to his hands as he tried to regain his balance. “Don’t—don’t do that, Kida-kun!” he squawked.

Masaomi was in the perfect position to blow air into his ear, and he happily did so, smiling widely because Mikado wasn’t allowed to lift his hand off the mat to swat him away. Mikado still wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to play a round (or two, or three) of Twister with his best friend, with Sonohara-san in charge of the spinning wheel. “Next, please,” he squeaked, as he felt his sock-clad feet slowly sliding away.

He couldn’t wait to get into a more comfortable position. Standing with one foot on red and the other on green, both on opposite sides of the mat, was extremely uncomfortable.

“Right foot on green,” Anri announced, after spinning the wheel.

“Ha!” Masaomi quickly snuck one of his feet right on the spot where Mikado was going to put his own foot down.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Mikado asked, moving his foot to the only available green circle left in the corner.

“Maaaaaaaaybe,” Masaomi said, grinning widely. Mikado groaned, and Masaomi wiggled his toes.

“Left hand on yellow,” Anri said, smiling a little at their antics.

“It’s already on yellow, Sonohara-san,” Mikado said, feeling a little weird about how apologetic he sounded.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Let me just…” She spun the wheel again. “Left foot on blue.”

Mikado gaped. How was he supposed to do that?! Masaomi nonchalantly moved his foot behind his right hand, which was also on blue. “If you wait much longer, you lose, Mi-ka-do,” Masaomi cheerfully said.

“That’s not a rule!” Mikado exclaimed, and tried as best as he could to climb over Masaomi’s foot. “Your leg is in the way.”

“It’s a very nice leg, though,” Masaomi said. “Just look at it!” He wiggled his toes again for emphasis.

“Right hand on red,” Anri announced, before they could start bickering again.

“This game is the worst,” Mikado announced, stretching even further to place his hand on the closest red circle available. He had a hand or foot on every colour now.

“Just put in enough practice and one day, you’ll be as good as me!”

“You lost the last round, though,” Mikado retorted.

“Coincidence,” Masaomi airily said.

“Uhuh.”

“Right foot on yellow.” Mikado shifted positions again, putting a little more weight on that foot. He didn’t want to tell Sonohara-san to hurry though, despite the fact his other foot on blue had started to fall asleep.

Masaomi had at first announced they’d be switching turns at who would sit out the round and spin the wheel, but Anri had been quick to shut down that idea. “I suppose that just means Mikado has to work extra hard to defeat me!” Masaomi had said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

He hadn’t been entirely wrong, either, Mikado thought as Anri called out for their right foot to be placed on green. Masaomi might have lost the previous round, but that was only because they’d already taken up four circles on blue with their left hands and right feet, and the next move had been to put their left foot on blue as well. Mikado had just been quicker about it, that was all.

The round before that, he’d beaten Mikado fair and square by casually being able to hold himself up with his legs crossed (one foot on yellow, the other on red), with his hands behind him. Mikado had managed to fall over after about three seconds. Not one of his proudest moments, to be honest.

He changed his left hand to red when Anri called for it, and heard Masaomi shift behind him. His other hand was getting a little sweaty, and he changed his position, although, standing with his butt right in the air isn’t the most graceful of positions. He glances to his left; Masaomi is crouched down, instead of his long legs stretching out like Mikado’s are.

“If you want to check Mikado out, now’s as good a time as any,” he called out to Anri, who turned a dark shade a red and stuttered her way through their next move, which turned out to be right hand on yellow. He turned once more, and heard Masaomi snort behind him.

“What?” he asked, already dreading the answer. He had to resist the temptation to bow his head down and look between his legs to see what Masaomi is doing.

“Nothing, nothing,” Masaomi said. It sounded like he wanted to say more, but was holding himself back, which was very unlike Masaomi.

“…do you still want to continue playing?” Anri asked.

“Absolutely,” Masaomi crowed, at the same time Mikado asked, “Why?”

“Um,” she said. “It’s just that… I usually do my grocery shopping on Fridays.”

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Mikado assured her. “I mean, it must be kind of boring, just doing the spinning.”

“It’s… actually quite funny, watching the two of you,” she admitted with a giggle, and he raised an eyebrow. “Right hand on blue,” she quickly added, after glancing down when she had spun.

He sighed in relief. That was better, if only slightly.

“Left foot on red,” she continued.

Well, he’d spoken too soon, apparently.

 “Oh God,” Mikado groaned, more to himself than the other two. He didn’t think his legs were made for stretching this far, with his left on red and the other foot on the other side of the mat, still on green (although barely, his heel was just touching the edge).

Behind him Masaomi was casually lounging, looking like it barely took any effort to sit like this.

“I’ll do two more spins,” Anri said, checking her phone for the time. “Can you two manage after that?”

“I’m sure I can beat Mikado in just two turns,” Masaomi cheerfully said, and Mikado glared over the top of his knee.

“Good luck with that,” he retorted.

“Um, another turn, guys?” Anri said, attracting their attention. “Right hand on… green.” She grimaced, and Mikado winced. Oh no.

He gritted his teeth. He was _not_ going to let Masaomi win this round. Or any other round, really. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if he lost _again_. So he reached out with his right hand, to end up in what had to be the most awkward position of this afternoon yet, basically spread-eagled on a fricking Twister mat. He was never, ever going to say yes to any of Masaomi’s propositions again.

“Your butt’s in my face, Mikado,” his best friend casually commented from behind him.

“Ma—Masaomi, _don’t say things like that_!” Mikado hissed, feeling his face heat up.

“It’s true, though,” the other insisted. “Also, you just said my first name. If I’d known all I had to do was mention your butt, I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

Mikado would really like to sink into a hole in the floor right now, especially with Sonohara-san sitting _right there_. He liked to think it was his best kept secret, but if Masaomi kept going with his inappropriate comments, he thought he might give himself away. He wondered if it was possible to die from having too much blood rush to your face.

“Last spin,” Anri said, temporarily distracting both of them. Her face had gone slightly red as well, Mikado noticed. “Left hand on blue.”

Mikado lifted his hand to put it down on the circle closest to him (next to his right foot, conveniently), until another hand snuck right underneath his leg and put it down before he could. “Kida-kun…” He sighed, and put his hand on the only other available option, next to his right hand on green. “I don’t think either of us is going to win or lose this round. Do you need me to walk you out, Sonohara-san?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said, at the same time Masaomi exclaimed that he couldn’t get up, because they hadn’t finished the round yet. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he protested. “I just want to be a proper host.”

“Uhuh,” Masaomi said, and Anri laughed, again.

“I can see myself out, Ryuugamine-kun. I’ll see you both tomorrow at school.” She put the spinner on the ground next to the mat, and picked up her bag. “Bye guys. Don’t break any legs.”

“Bye!” Both of them hollered right before the door closed behind her.

“Oh, man, how’re we going to manage spinning and playing at the same time,” Masaomi complained. “My hand is going all tingly now.”

“You put it there yourself,” Mikado pointed out, looking over his shoulder. “And we’ll take turns. Just… use the limb closest to the board, or something.”

“You go first; I don’t want to move.”

As it happened, the board was closest to Mikado’s foot, so with his tongue peeking out of his mouth a little, he used his toe to spin. “That was _terrible_ , Mikado,” Masaomi complained, “it barely even moved!”

“I don’t care, it still counts,” Mikado petulantly said. “Let’s see if you can do any better than that just using your foot.”

“What’s it pointing at anyway?”

“Um.” Mikado tilted his head. “I think it’s saying… uh, something on yellow. Left foot? No, wait, right. Sorry, seeing what foot it is upside down is hard.”

At least their new position was slightly more comfortable, Mikado thought, even if Masaomi was obnoxious enough to try and squiggle his own limbs between Mikado’s. To throw him off balance, obviously.

“Your turn,” he said, instead, and Masaomi used his hand to turn the wheel. “Left hand on yellow,” he announced. “Better not be yellow again next round, huh, Mikado?”

Considering that the only empty yellow spot left on the mat was in front of Mikado, he already knew he would win if it did turn out that way. “I wouldn’t mind,” he lightly responded.

They took several more turns spinning, right up until Masaomi was leaning backwards with both his feet on blue, one of his hands on red, and the other on yellow. Mikado was much more awkwardly placed, as he took up the last two places of blue on his side, and, with his arms crossed, one hand on either side of him. If he wanted to, he could place his chin on one of Masaomi’s knees; he was that close to him.

Masaomi jiggled his knee around a little, like he was moving it to the beat of some song Mikado couldn’t hear. “I don’t think this is going anywhere,” he found himself saying. “I mean, I don’t think either of us is winning this round. Maybe we should call it even? I won the last round, and you won the first one…”

“But if we quit now, we’ll never find out who truly is the best at Twister!”

“We could always do it again, later,” Mikado suggested.

“You mean you’d accept if I proposed to play again?”

“Probably not,” Mikado said with a sigh. “Can you spin? I can barely feel my legs anymore.”

“Mm. Personally I’m rather fond of staying like this for a while.”

“…I don’t see how you can be comfortable like that. If you’re not going to spin, then I will.”

“That looks dangerous,” Masaomi said after a moment of watching Mikado trying to reach for the board with his right hand, who was trying not to lose his balance in the process.

“It’s not,” Mikado insisted, knowing he was very close to tumbling over.

“It is,” Masaomi insisted, and then accidentally moved the board even further away with his foot. “Oops. I meant to give it a little shove into your direction.”

“Uhuh,” Mikado said, in a ‘yes, I’m absolutely sure that’s what you intended to do’ tone.

“You don’t believe me? Oh, how you wound me, Mikado!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” He glanced back at the board, forever out of his reach now. “We might as well give up, now.”

“No!” Masaomi cried out. “No, we have to find out… who is the best at Twister!”

Mikado scrunched up his face. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. “I still have homework, you know.”

“Mikado, Mikado… One day you’ll understand there are things in life more important than homework.”

“…are you implying Twister is good for our education?”

“At least our Phys Ed teacher is gonna be happy.” Masaomi beamed. “Man, I really shouldn’t have pushed that board away. I guess we’ll never find out now.”

“Hold on, let me just…” Mikado went for one last attempt (although he cheated a little and used his left hand this time around, considering it was closer). His brow was furrowed in concentration, so he didn’t notice when Masaomi reached out a hand to steady him—too little, too late.

“Whoa!”

He lied still for a second or two, his ankles folded awkwardly beneath him.

“Um,” he said, when he noticed he was lying right on top of his best friend, who was sprawled out on the mat. “Sorry, sorry,” he exclaimed, and he would’ve scrambled up, if Masaomi hadn’t grabbed hold of his wrist.

“I think we should call this a draw,” Masaomi brightly said, pulling Mikado closer to him.

“A—a draw?”

“Yep,” he said, “we both fell, after all.”

“But I fell right on top of you!”

“No big deal,” Masaomi waved the opposition away. “I probably would’ve fallen anyway. You’re not _that_ heavy, you know? Don’t worry about it. But, you know, if you’re that insistent on falling for me again, we could play another round?”

“I don’t think that’s a--” Mikado paused. “What?”

“Welllll,” Masaomi said. “It’s definitely possible I’m completely misreading you – in which case, oops, my bad – but, I’ve kinda been noticing… some stuff.”

“Some stuff,” Mikado repeated, very aware of the fact he was still lying right on top of his best friend. “What does that even mean, Kida-kun?” He’s… well, he doesn’t want to call it being excited. It’s more like he’s feeling nervous and may need a bucket soon. But he’s… well, he’s always been certain he’s kept a good lid on those kinds of emotions. The last thing he wanted was for his best friend to be disgusted with him, for feeling the way he did.

“I always tease you about having a crush on Anri-chan,” Masaomi started. “You get this cute blush whenever I even so much as mention her – ha, like right now.”

“I’m not blushing,” Mikado tried to insist. Masaomi raised a brow, and he sighed. Okay, maybe he was. But that didn’t mean he was blushing just because Masaomi had mentioned Anri…

“But you don’t just do it when I mention Anri-chan. You just actually only do it when I say you have a _crush_ on her. I’ve mentioned her countless times before, and you didn’t even bat an eyelid! So, I decided it had to be something else.”

“Like what?” Mikado was almost afraid to ask. Or to know the answer.

“The only thing I had going for me was that I knew you had a crush on someone. I just didn’t know who. So, I took the liberty of asking around.”

“Oh no.” Mikado groaned.

“Two things, Mikado. The only thing people in your class know about you is your name, and that you’re class rep. That’s… very impressive, actually. The other thing is, you generally only hang out with me and Anri-chan. So, unless you’re secretly dating a super hot girl and are sneaking off to have dates at night, there’s really only one other possible option.”

Mikado was afraid to ask what that was. If he blushed any harder, his face would probably catch fire.

“You’re not secretly dating a super cute girl, right?” Masaomi asked, and Mikado slowly shook his head. “Well then. I hope it’s all right if I do this.”

Do what? Mikado thought, and then- Oh. Oh, that.

“I’ve kinda wanted to do that for a while,” Masaomi admitted, after letting go of Mikado’s face. “I—that wasn’t your first kiss, right?”

“Um,” Mikado said. “No. I mean, yes. It—it was.”

“This is the worst way to confess. I came onto you on a twister mat. A twister mat, Mikado! My standards are usually a little higher.”

“It’s all right. It could always be worse.” Mikado inevitably found himself thinking of Masaomi trying to pick up girls in the park with one of his horrible pick-up lines, and for two seconds imagined that happening to him, Masaomi approaching him with a sappy one-liner. “Maybe you should do it again, just in case.”

“…you mean confess?”

“ _No_. I mean—you should—kiss me again?”

“Oh. _Ooh_. I can do that. Absolutely. Yes.”

“Masaomi?”

“What?”

“Please stop talking.”

Mikado had never seen himself as a person taking the initiative, but this was Masaomi, his best friend since childhood. If there was anyone with whom he would do anything out of the ordinary, it would probably be him.

Mikado kissed him.

A little awkwardly, admitted, because first – or even second – kisses are always just a titbit lopsided, while you’re still trying to see if your mouths can properly fit together. And Mikado thought to himself, _I wonder if this is what it’s supposed to feel like_ , and, _Does Masaomi like it like this_ , and even, _My hands are getting sweaty again_.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, and he felt his cheeks heat up again, but whether it was in embarrassment or something of a slightly different nature, he couldn’t tell.

He was a little startled, then, when he felt Masaomi’s hands reach up and touch both his cheeks, applying more pressure, letting go, and then doing it again.

“Have you ever kissed someone before, Masaomi?” he found himself murmuring against the other’s lips.

“Mm,” the other said, kissing the corner of Mikado’s mouth. “A few times.”

Mikado wondered how many girls he kissed, or if it was just the one.

(He’d thought about Masaomi being with someone else before, and usually managed to file it away, before he could feel himself getting jealous.)

“Anri-chan knows,” Masaomi suddenly said, leaning his head back. “I mean, uh, she caught me staring a… couple of times?”

“Is that why she said she had to leave?” Mikado asked. How often is a couple of times, anyway?

“Maybe,” Masaomi said, “maybe not. We didn’t exactly agree on anything…”

Mikado had to admit it takes him some time to process all of this. Not only had Masaomi been watching him – for how long?! – but Anri knew as well? When did that happen?

“That girl sees everything,” Masaomi told him, answering his confused expression.

Mikado bowed his head down, leaning his forehead against Masaomi’s shoulder. Well, that was embarrassing. If she knew about Masaomi, then she’d probably seen him staring too. She’d just been too polite to say anything about it to him.

“I—to be honest, I wasn’t really sure if you felt the same way about me, the way I did about you,” Masaomi quietly said close to his ear. “I mean, not until just now, anyway. Otherwise you would’ve pushed me away, I think. Unless you didn’t really like it…?”

“No, I did,” Mikado hastily said, and Masaomi grinned. Belatedly, he realized it must’ve been a ploy to admit he liked kissing Masaomi, even if he’d only done it twice thus far.

“Oh, Mikado, you’re making my heart flutter and go doki doki, right here in my chest!”

“…you should see a doctor for that.”

“Not when I know the perfect remedy for it,” Masaomi cheerfully said. Mikado didn’t get the chance to ask what that would be, as Masaomi easily flipped the two of them over, so he was now lying on top. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he added as an aside.

“What? Kiss me, you mean?”

“That, too,” Masaomi said, and did so again, careful and with consideration.

Although Mikado did not exactly have much material to compare this kiss to (or any of the previous ones), he did think it was… Well, he liked it well enough. Mikado was still at the stage where he wasn’t entirely sure at what point you were supposed to open or close your mouth, but Masaomi was well-versed enough in said kissing to make him feel like at least he wasn’t completely hopeless.

“Is this okay?” Masaomi asked, when he’d moved from kissing Mikado’s mouth close to his ear, and kissed the spot where his jaw met his ear, and then further and further among his jawline.

“I—yeah,” Mikado said, suddenly wondering what he was supposed to do with his hands.

He tentatively raised them to Masaomi’s shoulders, who had lowered his mouth from his jaw to his neck. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, although he’d never expected it to actually happen. Masaomi was very keen on hitting on girls, after all, and Mikado had never seen him express any interest in guys, let alone in him, his best friend.

(He’d be lying even more if he said he wasn’t slightly freaking out about this.)

Masaomi sucked on a particular sensitive spot on his neck, right at the junction with his shoulder, and involuntarily he groaned. Masaomi hummed softly, using the hand on the other side of Mikado’s head to play with his hair, twisting some of the strands between his fingers.

“But how long have you…?” he stopped in the middle of the sentence, his breath hitching up.

“A few years, probably,” Masaomi admitted. “But… only after I left. Didn’t realise how much I’d miss you and your dorky face.” He grinned when Mikado turned his head to look at him. He’d definitely been harbouring his own crush for a while, but he supposed his only started when they finally met up again and he’d realised how _nice_ Masaomi had looked.

Truth was, he’d wanted to do this for a very long time – kiss Masaomi, that is. If only to see if his crush was just that, a crush – or if there was something more going on.

Let alone the fact that both of them were boys, and he was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to crush on his best friend, even if he was one of nicest, considerate, fun people to be around. He wasn’t going to say funniest because, well. It wasn’t that Masaomi didn’t understand the meaning of the word joke, it was probably that someone once upon a time had forgotten to tell him there was supposed to be a punch line at the end.

It was with hesitance that he put his arms around Masaomi’s waist, and pulled him close, his full weight right on top of him.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a short stint for you, either,” Masaomi said, knowingly.

“I… don’t think so?”

Masaomi snorted, and pecked him on the nose.

And maybe Mikado shouldn’t have drawn Masaomi this close to him, but he was a little (okay, very) insecure about this, and he wanted Masaomi to like him, despite him rationally knowing his best friend already did that. They wouldn’t be friends if he didn’t, after all.

That wasn’t really the problem right now, though. No, the problem was that, despite allegations, Mikado was still a growing teenage boy, and he had, you know, _urges_ , and it really wasn’t his fault that he was feeling uncomfortably hot right down there.

He should’ve seen it coming, though, that Masaomi would notice as well. Mikado was certain his face was the same colour as the red circles on the twister mat. Surprisingly, Masaomi didn’t call him out on it – and by this point Mikado had definitely noticed they were both stupidly turned on.

Masaomi kept himself preoccupied by worshipping his face, and neck, and at a certain point his head dipped low enough to nip at his collarbones. It was rather obvious that he was trying not to rush through anything.

“Hey, Masaomi,” he said, just as he moved his hips just the slightest bit upwards, to see what would happen—not to himself, but what Masaomi’s face would look like when he—

Masaomi’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a soft groan, their faces so close Mikado could appreciate every single aspect of it. “Shit, Mikado,” he muttered, “if you keep that up, I’ll just come in my pants.”

In spite of the warning (or maybe because of it), his comment encouraged Mikado to keep going, because he wanted to see more of Masaomi’s face as he entirely let go.

The next few minutes were more or less focused on haphazardly throwing their clothes everywhere, touching and stroking and kissing each other while they did it. He’d only gotten so far as popping the button on his own pants, but trying to kiss someone while you were undressing yourself (and them!) required more dexterity than he’d expected, as he found himself messing around with buttons far longer than he usually would.

And of course Masaomi’s hoodie got stuck right at a pivotal moment, pulling in his arm and trying to pull it over his head at the same time (Mikado wasn’t going to question his thought process, because he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly either).

By the time he’d managed to get Masaomi unstuck, they were both sitting up, red-faced, Masaomi practically in his lap.

It took approximately three seconds of staring before they went back to making out.

“I always knew,” Masaomi said right between their mouths touching, “that you liked me just for my body, Mikado!”

“Was that a joke?” Mikado asked after a pause. “Because if it was, it was a really bad one. Obviously I only like you for your body, Kida-kun.”

“Well then,” he said, surprising Mikado with his reaction, raising his arms above his head, “this body is all yours.”

“Um.” Mikado lost his composure a little here, settling his hands on Masaomi’s bare waist, and his friend nearly immediately dropped his own arms to rest on Mikado’s shoulders.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know,” Masaomi said after a moment of silence, and Mikado quickly shook his head.

“I want to! I just… uh… I don’t really know what I’m…”

“Well, I have to admit I’ve never done it with a guy before, but I guess it’s kinda similar to touching yourself? You _do_ know how that works, right?” Masaomi’s grin was mischievous, though, and Mikado can feel himself redden again.

“I—yeah, of course,” he said, although that last part is more muttered than anything else.

“Then don’t worry about it. What’s the worst that could happen, anyway? Bad sex?”

(Mikado had to admit his thoughts had gone a little astray, as he’d just envisioned Masaomi getting his hair stuck in a zipper and—no.)

“I guess…” he finally said, looking down and focusing on his hands, trying not to think of how sweaty they were and how weird this inevitably was going to be.

“Hey.” He lifted his eyes momentarily, and Masaomi smiled before he leaned forward and kissed him again. “It’ll be fine. Do you want me to take your pants off?”

“My—my pants?”

“Uhuh. Those things you wear so people don’t have to stare at your bare legs all day.” He tilted his hips forward so their still-clothed erections brushed together, and Mikado breathed in sharply through his nose. “Unless you’d rather take off mine…?”

Now that Masaomi’s mouth wasn’t on him constantly, he was getting rather talkative about this whole thing – and it wasn’t as if Mikado didn’t like him talking, he was used to Masaomi blabbering his ear off on this or that topic – but he feared his head might explode if more naked body parts were going to be mentioned. So, he did the only logical thing: he shut him up by kissing him on the lips, and letting one of his hands slide forward to flip open the button on Masaomi’s pants.

Masaomi let out a small noise of surprise that nearly turned into a moan when Mikado worked down his zipper and, for lack of a better word, shoved his hand down Masaomi’s pants. And, yeah, he’d done this plenty of times with himself, but it was still a little strange to wrap his fingers around a dick that wasn’t his own.

With the hand that he wasn’t using to lean onto Mikado’s shoulder, Masaomi slid his pants further down his hips, along with his underwear. Mikado moved his fingers experimentally, slow at first, then moving his hand faster when Masaomi asked – or, basically, begged – for it. “Please, Mikado,” he whispered near his ear, and there barely was any space between their bodies, with the way Masaomi hung onto him, his legs trembling.

He came with a soft grunt, right over Mikado’s hand, panting softly as he tried to regain his composure.

He idly wiped his hand on his own pants, and for sure felt like blushing when they locked gazes again. Masaomi lazily grinned, grasping his face with one hand and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Your turn,” he whispered, and before Mikado knew what was happening he was thrown on his back, Masaomi making quick work of disappearing his pants.

(Hearing Masaomi make all these noises because of what he had been doing to him definitely hadn’t been helpful for his hard-on, and he’d gotten more and more uncomfortable, the tightness of his pants digging into his skin.)

Strangely enough, he wasn’t very embarrassed about Masaomi seeing him naked – maybe because the other still was barely dressed himself, or maybe because he had no room left for shame in his head.

Masaomi crawled over him, their chests inches apart, but still too far for there to be any touching.

With his left forearm positioned beside Mikado’s head, Masaomi maneuvered his other hand between the two of them, and—involuntarily he let out a slight gasp when he was finally touched, the urge to move upward into Masaomi’s hand strong.

“Not yet,” Masaomi said, and began to stroke him, keeping his gaze firmly on Mikado’s face, speeding up or slowing down when he gasped and moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

Touching himself, and being touched like this by Masaomi weren’t quite the same; he never knew exactly what move the other would make next, where he would put his fingers on his length, and it was really hard not to think about what was happening and not be aroused by it.

Masaomi was good at teasing his orgasm right out of him, allowing him to get more and more agitated until he felt he could no longer contain himself, and he came with a strangled cry.

A moment later, he slapped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed about the noise he’d made, and irrationally thought about what Masaomi had to think of him right now.

Masaomi rolled over right next to him, reaching over to his shirt and wiping his hand on it. “I can wash it later,” he said, when he saw Mikado’s appalled expression. “Or… did you mean I was terrible at this?”

“N-no!” Mikado protested, and Masaomi grinned, like he’d been expecting that answer. “It was—it was rather good.”

“Rather good? Mikado, that’s an insult to my ability to skilfully use my hands!”

“Very good, then,” Mikado amended, smiling indulgently.

“Well, I suppose there’s always room for improvement,” Masaomi said, before lightly bumping his forehead against Mikado’s. “You know, this gives me an idea.”

“Oh no,” Mikado mumbled.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, where one is the ‘I don’t even think anything happened’ orgasm to ten, which is the ‘I’m seeing stars and I’m fairly sure I have a concussion’ orgasm, how would you rate your orgasm?”

“…how the hell do you manage to get a concussion from a—an orgasm?!”

“Accidentally head-butting the wall,” Masaomi said, like it happened every day. “Well?”

“I’m fairly certain I don’t have a concussion?” Mikado weakly said.

“Does that make it a nine? Or, oh, wait, would the concussion itself make it worse?”

Mikado wasn’t sure which fact was worse, that Masaomi was actually pondering this, or that he was pondering this while lying naked on a twister mat.

He also wasn’t entirely sure how his life had gone from being an accidental gang leader to being jerked off by his best friend.

“So,” Masaomi announced, like he had another great idea he couldn’t wait to share. Without waiting for Mikado’s reply, he continued: “How do you feel about naked twister?”


End file.
